Christmas Wishes
by KricketWilliams
Summary: Two people find themselves making special Christmas wishes. Can they make each other's come true? Just a little Christmas confection! I don't own a thing.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

_AN: Hi everyone. No, I didn't get snowed in last night, but I did get a chance to write seven chapters of festive holiday goodness starring our favorite pair. I am going to post a couple a day until the big day. This is my Christmas gift to all of you. I hope you like it!..._

"There he is!"

"Oh, Jackers, can we wait?" Pen begged, being dragged through the bustling shopping mall by the miniature Hotchner. She was exhausted but happy. Today she took both Jack and Henry shopping, so both Hotch and JJ could get their Christmas presents purchased and ducked away.

It was a really good way to find the perfect gifts for her favorite two munchkins on the planet. She wasn't _the_ favorite auntie for nothing, after all!

She'd been shopping with the five year old and the two year old for over six hours now. She was getting pooped out. Laden with presents, her hair was messy, her feet were sore, and now her attitude-along with her bra straps-needed adjusting.

"Aw, pwease, Auntie P?" Jack begged, his big eyes excited and filled with boundless energy. "I can see Santa's workshop, an' I gotta ask him for one thing."

Henry didn't seem to care either way. He was having fun playing his favorite game with her: Tossing his toy out of his stroller and making her pick it up for the eightieth time that afternoon.

"Jack. I think your daddy would want to take you to see Santa," she explained, staring down at the big north pole display at the far end where Jack was heading with her.

Jack gave her a look like she was a crazy woman. "He did awready. I just forgot to ask him for somethin'."

With that, he bolted down the mall hallway with the speed and agility of a running back.

Sighing, Penelope took off after him, bumping into many other shoppers that turned to glare at her. By the time she caught up with Jack, he was already standing in the massively long line to see Santa. There were many other kids, all dressed up, waiting to see the ever famous man in red.

Pen took a glance around the mall, finally taking in the decorations. It really was beautiful, now that she took the time and looked. There were huge white pretend snowflakes that were glittering among blue and silver frosted ribbons. Cherubic angels floated with their adult counterparts, looking mischievous and joyful. They looked remarkably real, which surprised Penelope.

_Guess this mall wasn't hit with the recession_, she mused to herself.

Even the Santa's workshop/North Pole display looked like the genuine article. There were little people in green suits, happily hammering away at a bunch of wooden toys. There was this smell of gingerbread, along with the faint smell of true peppermint. Penelope even wrapped her arms around herself; there was a cool breeze coming from the display.

The line was moving quickly and efficiently, and soon she, Henry and Jack were behind the tensa barrier, about number ten in line.

"There he is!" Jack said excitedly, jumping up and down, pointing and squealing at Santa like she would at David Bowie.

"I know, honey, I-"

When she looked up, she was dumbfounded. One look and she knew _exactly_ why Jack was so taken by him. This Santa...whoa, he _really_ looked like the genuine article. His snowy white beard was thick and real, on his slightly reddened nose was a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles. His red velvet suit was in perfect shape, despite hundreds of little butts that sat on his lap. She was duly impressed.

When they made it up to the front of the line, Jack burst past the attendant taking the money.

"Santa!" he cried, launching himself at the jolly old elf.

"Ho ho ho!" he answered, hugging Jack, not the slightest bit upset at the little boy's enthusiasm.

"Santa, I hafta tell you somethin' I forgot. Can I tell you the secwet?"

"Oh, of course, Jack," Santa said, picking the little boy up and putting him on his knee. He craned his ear towards the little boy. "Now, what is the news?"

Whispering secretively, Jack told him the surprise he couldn't wait to say, and Santa's eyes lit up. Even Henry was squirming in his stroller, ready to jump out and run towards the jolly old elf.

It was so sweet, it made Penelope somewhat wistful. She'd been feeling a little down the whole day. She was starting to wonder if it would ever be her turn, if she would ever have children to put on Santa's lap, children that would get as excited as Jack and Henry did.

Lately, she'd been discussing with Kevin taking their relationship to the next level. She knew she wanted more in life, wanted more than what she'd had. In particular, a hubby and kids. It wasn't that she was depressed-She _was_ happy-but she felt somewhat unfulfilled.

Kevin hadn't seemed that interested in discussing it, and her heart, along with her Christmas spirit, unfortunately plummeted.

After he was done, he climbed down from Santa's lap and ran off to the elf nearby that was holding a peppermint stick.

Penelope brought Henry up, who smiled a beaming grin at Santa for the cameras, and then toddled back to her.

The nearest elf came over. "Can I take him for a candy cane?"

Pen laughed and shook her head. "Sure."

After all, what was one more pile of sugar in an already sweet little boy?

"Well, hello there, Auntie P," Santa said with a jolly chuckle.

She turned and smiled back. "Hi, Santa." Then she thought for a minute more as an idea struck. "Hey...Can I ask you something?"

"Of course!" he replied, with that same jolly grin.

"What did Jack just ask you for? I'd love to get him that for a present."

"Oh, ho. No, no," he said, giving her a chastising look. "That is between Jack and Santa."

She grumbled, feeling piqued. That was taking the Santa act a bit far, wasn't it?

_Santa_ was now officially a jerk.

"But...I will make you a deal," he said, narrowing his eyes at her.

"What?" she grudgingly asked.

He patted his lap. "If you come up here, sit on my lap, and tell me what _you_ truly want for Christmas, I will tell you what Jack wished for."

Huffing, Pen moved closer, then took a seat on the old pervert's lap. She figured that was what he had to be, since he requested that she, a grown woman, sit on his knee.

Penelope plopped down on his velvet covered knee and immediately images started pouring through her mind. She thought about how lonely she'd been recently. She was hoping for love, marriage, babies...and how badly she really wanted that.

She had to take charge. She had to get Kevin to marry her and get him thinking. She had no other choice.

Before she could stop herself, she said, "I want to marry my true love."

Santa eyes twinkled behind his little glasses, along with a hopeful smile. "This is what you want most, Penelope?"

"Yes," she whispered, nodding. Her eyes grew misty, then she scoffed at herself, wiping the moisture away. "That is silly, isn't it?"

"No, not silly," he said, stroking his beard. "Not silly at all."

She grumbled. "If only I could get him to think that..."

"Oh, you will!" he said, nodding. "I'm pretty sure he already loves you."

"Yeah, I _think_ he does," she said, shrugging. "But he doesn't seem interested right now."

He chuckled, his big belly shaking like the proverbial bowl of jelly. "Oh, no, no, no. He is. He wants the same things. The time is far closer than you think."

She gave him an odd look, realizing she'd been chatting seriously with this guy in the red suit. There was something strange about this Santa...and what on earth was he talking about? "Excuse me?"

"Off my knee, young lady," he said, giving her a bounce that made her stand, then he winked at her. "Jack asked for a storm trooper like his Uncle Reid has."

Penelope stood on the stage, having a feeling that she'd just been buffaloed by Santa.

"Now remember," he called out to her, his twinkling eyes serious and solemn. "_You_ make your own Christmas spirit. Surround yourself with those you care about...and make their spirits bright, too, and you'll get what you wish for."

Frowning, she wandered off to the side, took a peppermint stick, and walked off the stage to get her pictures.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_AN: Here we go! Thanks for the reviews, will answer as soon as I can...Posting quick before I go to work...Enjoy!..._

Sunday, Penelope completely vegged out at home. She didn't do anything that required more than lifting a remote or a bag of chips. She felt she was justified; she'd run herself ragged over those two adorable little boys for a total of nine hours yesterday. She needed to relax her body. She'd also cleared her mind as much as she could, since she'd been feeling down...but she couldn't stop thinking about that _Santa_ and what he'd said.

Late that night, she was wrapped in her slanket (Blanket with sleeves), all cozy, settled in for a long winter's nap, when the words St. Nick had said reverberated in her head yet again.

___You_ _make your own Christmas spirit..._

She knew she had to admit it. Santa had been right. It was the week before Christmas, and she _had_ been moping for far too long this season. It wasn't like her. She was usually the first person to wear a Christmas sweater or jingle bell earrings or a reindeer antler headband. She was the first to bring in some sort of Christmas cookie treat, and the first on to run the SSP (Secret Santa Program) at the BAU. She was _definitely_ the first one to tune her radio in her office to Christmas music...starting shortly after Thanksgiving.

She snickered, thinking of Scrooge McMorgan, who was in the office next door. Derek was not really into any holidays—besides Valentine's, for the obvious reason!—and always teased her for her open festiveness. By the third day of the music, he'd usually pound on her adjoining wall, shouting, "Baby Girl! Enough _Holly, Jolly Christmas_ already. Turn it down!"

She smirked to herself...and she'd thought _she _needed an attitude adjustment!

The words of Santa washed over her again...

_Surround yourself with those you care about...and make their spirits bright, too.._

_Oh, no,_ she thought miserably. _You do NOT want me to get Derek Morgan into the festive spirit! The word "festive" was not in Derek's vocabulary!_

But the more she thought, the more she felt driven in that direction. She knew his Christmas was usually spent in Chicago with his family. This year, he wasn't able to head home. He was consulting on a particular case that didn't wrap up until far too late, and he couldn't get tickets. He was stuck in Quantico by himself, and more owly about the holidays than ever.

She thought about Derek, how he was always there for her, always a sign of love and support. He would try to cheer her up, if their shoes were reversed. She knew he would. That was just him—a downright good man.

Standing and stretching, letting her slanket hit the ground, she shuffled off to bed, knowing she was going to try and do the impossible tomorrow...and she was going to start with the obvious.

She was going to make Derek _deck his halls_.

* * *

Derek sat at his desk, wondering where the Christmas music was. He was used to hearing every bad version of _Silent Night, White Christmas_...even horrendous remakes in other languages, like _Mele Kalikimaka_ and _Feliz Navidad. _He came to one conclusion after the noticeable lack of music this season...

Something was off with his Baby Girl.

He'd been especially mopey this Christmas season, feeling more introverted. He'd had a lot of tough cases; he wanted to wind down, and he was seriously looking forward to going home. When that didn't pan out, he'd grumbled worse than ever this year.

He wondered if his poor mood had made her miserable. He would never want to do that in a million years. He loved Penelope. She was a breath of fresh air, his relief and solace when things were rough. He felt like an ass, not really noticing until now, the week before Christmas, how she lacked her usual spirit.

That wasn't like her.

He made a split second decision…He was going to do whatever it took to make her cheer up this holiday season. She deserved his full cooperation.

"Derek Morgan, you are going to cheer up and become festive!"

He looked up from his desk to see his Baby Girl, complete in what had to be the ugliest Christmas sweater he'd ever seen. It was red and baggy, with a big Christmas tree on the front. It had working lights, which were flashing off and on.

The corner of his mouth quirked. "That's some sweater..."

"Thanks!" She grinned. "It plays music. Wanna hear?"

He grinned, but worried it looked more like a grimace. "Sure."

Squeezing a button on her sleeve, the sweater began to play a one toned version of _O Christmas Tree_.

He stood and walked closer to her, trying hard to stifle a laugh. "P...that is...that's—"

She was positively beaming now. "It's awful, isn't it? The perfect sweater to decorate a tree in!"

He couldn't figure why she'd said that, and he couldn't hold in his laughter, either. He laughed loudly along with her, until he his sides ached and he was panting for breath. He was holding his gut and shaking his head, when he said, "Damn, girl. That is the understatement of the year."

"Ah! Wait before you say that," she said, eyes twinkling with merriment as she handed him a gift bag.

"Oh...you _shouldn't_ have," he replied, his voice a low growl. He had an awful feeling about this...

In the bag was a matching sweater in his size, from a nearby thrift store.

"You _have_ to wear it. It would be rude to not wear a gift," she said, her eyes narrowing.

"You _really_ shouldn't have," he said, but removed the tag and pulled the sweater on.

She blinked at him. "You...you're going to wear it?"

He nodded. "Since you went through the trouble..."

"Oh, Morgan, that is so sweet," she said, patting his shirt. She pressed a button near his shoulder, and the lights began to flash.

"Umm..baby...why did you buy these sweaters?" he asked, curious.

She shrugged. "I haven't been feeling very Christmasy this year. I decided I needed to get into the holiday spirit, and I wanted to bring my best friend with me this time, since you are stuck here with me this year." She smiled up at him, hopefully. "You game, Hot Stuff?"

He gave her his smile and cupped her cheek in his hand, letting his thumb brush over her cheekbone. "Yeah, Garcia. I am."

She grinned. "Good! I'm coming to your house to decorate and make cookies tonight! See you later, sugarplum."

He chuckled as she walked out of the office.

"Holiday nicknames...I like it," he said, sitting back down.

That got him thinking. He fired up his computer and did some research of his own...


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_AN: Thanks for the reviews, folks. I know everyone is super busy this holiday season, too!...Here comes the next part...Hope you enjoy!..._

"So, what are we doing tonight, again?" he asked after she showed up at his house. She was carrying a big box that he immediately took from her (It weighed a ton!), and she was bundled up because of the cold weather. He was still wearing his Christmas sweater she bought him, but he had the fire burning in his fireplace and the house was starting to heat up, so he'd probably take it off any minute.

"Decorating first," she answered, tugging off her mittens and unwrapping a very long scarf she had tied around her neck. Her glasses were fogging up because of the abrupt temperature change. "Then, if time permits, we'll bake-ooh!"

She'd just exclaimed because he took those glasses off the bridge of her nose.

He lifted his tacky, itchy, rough sweater he was wearing to get to his t-shirt underneath, before he wiped them off; the fabric would've scratched her lenses! Perching them back on her nose just right, he said, "There you go. All better."

She smiled back at him. "Thank you."

He lifted the heavy box again and took a look inside. "What do you have in there?"

"Decorations," she said. "You know. Just the basics."

"What basics?" he asked, arching a brow.

"Stuff to decorate your tree, tinsel, ornaments, silver and gold, all that jazz, and ingredients for a tasty holiday beverage," she remarked, waving her hands excitedly.

He laughed. "Baby...what tree?"

Her already big eyes widened so huge, they stretched outside the frames of her glasses.

"You don't have a Christmas tree?" she questioned, looking so shocked and appalled, he had to fight laughing.

"No," he replied. "I'm a bachelor, I'm never home at Christmastime. Why do I need a tree?"

"Oh, Hot Stuff," she said, sounding heartbroken. "If I'd only known, I would've...oh! This is awful, you poor angel fish."

He did laugh a little at her dramatic presentation. "P. It's no big deal."

"Yes, it is," she answered sternly. "Baby, you need a tree. Everyone has to have a Christmas tree. It is a magical experience."

"All right," he said, rolling his eyes. "We'll buy one next year..."

She shook her head adamantly. "No. Tonight. We need to buy a tree tonight. Let's go find a lot."

He frowned. "A real one?"

"Yep!" She grinned at him, starting to wrap her scarf back around her neck. "Made from wood and everything."

He shook his head, but slid his puffy black jacket on, along with a hat and pair of gloves. He was going to be game with what she suggested.

"Okay, gingerbread girl. I'm ready."

She looked at him, a shocked look on her face, before she smiled. "I like it!"

He touched the tip of her nose. "I got more where that came from," he remarked as he opened the door and they scooted out side to his SUV.

* * *

"What kind do you want to get?" she asked, looking at an eight foor Frasier fir that she thought was glorious. It was truly the kind of tree she would have if her puny apartment would grow by exponential numbers.

He was near a five foot Scotch pine, and as she thought he would, he pointed to it. "How about that one?"

She shook her head. The man was crazy. That tree would never look right in his house. It would look like the Charlie Brown tree-one puny branch with a little ornament. How could he get in the spirit with a tree like that?

She stood closer to him and put her mittened hands in his, trying to explain."You have vaulted ceilings. You need a tall, beautiful, majestic tree-"

"That matches it's tall, beautiful, majestic owner?" he replied with a cheesy grin.

"If that floats your boat...sure," she teased back.

"Oh, how you wound me," he said, grasping his chest, but he was still grinning, so she wasn't too worried.

A moment later, he called the tree lot owner over to spin the glorious fir she originally liked. It was perfect all the way around, and absolutely took Penelope's breath away. She even gasped and clapped her hands together.

From the corner of her eye, she could see that Derek was watching every move she was making. He was an avid observer, completely focused.

It was a little unnerving. She turned to watch as the forester bound the tree with twine for transport.

"Like that one, huh, angel?" he asked, looping his arms around her waist from behind, so that he was talking near her ear. His voice was huskier, deeper than it normally was.

She turned in his arms and smiled at him. "I think it's perfect."

"Like you," he said, kissing her forehead, then releasing her to go pay for the tree.

Penelope brought her fingertips up to the spot where his lips had touched, then sighed. Buying trees and Christmas things always brought out sentimental fantasies. This was Derek; she knew better than to think that way...

Even if it did feel really special.

She shuddered, most likely from the cold, and wrapped her arms around herself as she watched Derek finish paying.

* * *

Once back at Derek's home, they brought the tree in and got it onto the fancy tree stand the lot owner suggested that he get. He was glad, it made setting the awkwardly huge tree up not quite so bad. They immediately strung the tree with lights, getting sap all over their fingers, and on the hideous sweaters, fatally wounding the knit fabric.

Now he knew why she insisted on still wearing those ugly things. Both of them gratefully tugged them over their heads and tossed the tacky things in the trash.

"I have to get new ones next year," she said with a grin.

"Next year, I will hopefully be in Chicago, so I will be spared the sweater," he retorted. He noticed her smile dimmed just a little. He always went to his family, and Penelope stayed there.

He felt like an ass, and thought to himself, _Way to be sensitive, Morgan._

"I'm going to wash my hands," she said, leaving the room.

Afterward, while he tossed in the Yule Log she'd insisted on getting on the way out from the tree lot, she made hot toddies from a recipe she found on line.

"Whoa, Hot Stuff," she said, carrying a steaming mug to him. "Warning. This is a whole lotta alcohol."

He grinned and took a sip...then immediately coughed. "Damn, girl. You trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?"

"You wish," she scoffed, taking a sip of her potent drink.

"Hell, yes, I do," he answered with a grin, but she ignored him like usual.

They had about half the box of things she brought to decorate the tree, before she gasped.

"Sugarplum, I forgot to ask. Do you have any ornaments?"

He grinned and stood, leaving the room. "I do, actually."

"Really? Wow. With no tree, I didn't think-"

"My aunts always send them to me, my sisters send a few, and then there are the most important ones..." He was digging on top of a closet in his entryway, when he finally found the box he was looking for.

"What ones are those?" she asked softly.

"Baby, you've given me one every year that we've been friends. To mark little things we've done together," he said with a smile. "I've kept every one."

He watched her eyes become misty, before she handed him an ornament to hang.

* * *

Soon, the toddies were gone, the fire was glowing with just embers, and the tree was sparkling with silver and gold. It was, just like she had promised him, a magical experience. They sat on the couch in front of the fire, watching the dying light, snuggling close like they always had. Neither had spoke for a long time.

Derek looked down and noticed that Penelope had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He didn't want to wake her; she felt so good on his arm.

But Derek knew...she didn't belong there. She had work tomorrow, as did he, and she'd told him she needed to get a present for Lynch.

Sometimes life wasn't fair.

"Baby Girl," he murmured, patting her shoulder. "My sweet candy cane. Time to get up."

"Oh," she said, sitting up and stretching. "We were supposed to bake cookies."

"Maybe next year," he said, for some reason feeling really disappointed. Derek had never baked in his life, but he suddenly wanted to with a fierceness akin to fighting for his life.

She shook her head. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow we will do it."

He grinned. "You're on."

He walked her to the door, helped her with her coat, tied her scarf on lovingly, and put her earmuffs on, then kissed her forehead, before opening the door. "Goodnight, angel."

"Goodnight, D."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_AN: Thanks for the reviews! I am sorry I am late on this one today...trying to catch up at work before I have to head out of town for the holidays!..._

"Ugh, D..." Penelope groused, walking into Derek's office the next morning. Her eyes were a little bloodshot, and the way she was squinting, she looked like she had a headache. "I am _never_ drinking another hot toddy as long as I live."

"What's next, then?" he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Wassail? Hot rum punch? Mulled wine?"

She paused for a second. "I bet mulled wine would be great..."

He laughed, coming around the desk to give her a hug. "Only you, Baby Girl."

"But of course, my big, sexy, _edible_, chocolate snowman," she answered, wrapping her arms around his waist.

He grinned down at her. "Now _that_ was a good one."

"Hells, yes, I am known for-"

"Penelope."

She jumped apart from him guiltily at the sound of her boyfriend's voice. Derek looked up to see Lynch giving her big, hurt, wounded eyes...like she kicked his puppy and ran over his grandma. Total drama.

He really hated that guy.

"K-Kevin," she stammered, looking guilty, although there was really nothing to be guilty for.

"What is going on here?" he asked, looking at Pen, then to Derek, then back to her.

"I'm...I-"

"I am stuck here this Christmas," Derek said, stepping in and looping an arm around her shoulders. "Penelope is just making my Christmas here a little better."

He hated seeing Penelope getting all flustered around that unworthy weasel. But...he knew she loved Lynch, so he couldn't do anything about it.

"Oh. Well. I see," he said, and Derek could tell from his whiny tone of voice he most certainly did not see. "Penelope. We have Christmas dinner with my parents, you know. Noon. Christmas day."

"Y-yes, Kevin," she answered, still missing her moxie, to Derek's chagrin. She even stepped away from his arm. "I'll be there."

"And we'll talk later?" Kevin asked, standing closer to put both hands on Penelope's upper arms. "I've missed you, Penny."

She nodded. "I'll email you, okay?"

Kevin agreed, kissed Penelope soundly on the lips, and walked away with somewhat of a swagger.

Derek couldn't fight the ticking muscle in his cheek. He knew he had zilch claim on Penelope, but he truly despised the way Kevin treated her. From his nasty comment when they were in Alaska, that tinge of jealousy, to this asinine display...it drove Derek nuts. Penelope deserved more trust.

Himself, on the other hand...Lynch had every right to doubt his intentions. He'd have Penelope in a heartbeat if she didn't have Lynch weighing her down like a seven pound Christmas fruitcake sitting on her heart...

_Fruitcake...cake...Baking_.

"Baby, we baking tonight still?"

She glanced at the door where Kevin had walked out, before answering him, which stung Derek unexpectedly.

"Yes. I'll be there after work."

He'd had it. Enough was enough. He was done stepping in between those two. Maybe it was the Christmas mood, maybe it was that strange spirit of Christmas that was telling him he shouldn't be alone, but at that moment, he simply couldn't take being second best to Lynch.

"Never mind," he growled, unable to stop himself. He started walking back around his desk. "I don't want any damn cookies anyway. I'd rather go out tonight."

"No...No!" she said, leaning over his desk to look him in the eyes. "Please, D. I'll be there. I really _want_ to be there."

The pleading look she had was unbearable. He couldn't hurt her, not for anything, and he felt like an ass again for hurting her in the first place. She wasn't his. He had to stop thinking sometimes that she was. It was irrational and stupid on his behalf.

And he'd promised he'd make her Christmas better. Derek always kept his promises.

He plastered on a smile. "Okay, baby. See you then."

* * *

Ten hours later, Penelope was in Derek's kitchen, mixing up dough for cookies, while he was unwrapping Hershey's® kisses.

"What are these called?" he asked.

"Peanut blossoms," she answered. She loved this cookie and he did, too, so she decided to teach him how to do it.

"They're kind of tedious," he grumbled.

Since she arrived, Derek was in a pissy mood. He frowned, complained, and frowned some more, so different from last night.

"Derek, should we turn on the tree?" she asked, putting the dough in front of him.

"Suit yourself," he mumbled.

Sighing, she went into the other room and plugged in his shimmering tree. He didn't have a fire going, which was kind of disappointing, too, but she didn't ask him to start one. She stopped at his sound system, ready to put on Christmas music.

"Anything but Christmas music," he announced from the other room.

She sighed again. Whatever his problem was, it was her job to get him out of it.

"Fine." She clicked on the oldies station.

He was rolling big balls of dough, far too big for the cookie to work right. She wandered back over, and took the doughball from his hand.

"Here, half that size. One inch. Roll 'em, then roll 'em in the sugar," she explained again for the fourth time that evening.

He grumbled, but did as she bid.

A second later, he started to snicker.

"What?" she asked, looking at him.

"You hear the song?" He arched a brow in question, then began singing along. "_And I never lost one minute of sleep, 'til I hitched a ride on the Riverboat Queen_..."

She giggled, too. "Word, Ike."

"_Big wheels keep on turnin', proud Mary keep on burnin'_..."

"_Rollin'...Rollin_'" They sang together, rolling the cookie balls at the same time. "_Rollin' on the River_..."

"Sing it, Tina," he said with a smirk.

After tugging her skirt up as short as she could, she flung her ponytail holder and clip out of her hair to make a lioness mane, pouted her lips, and began singing along with the song, using the spatula as her microphone.

They sang together, Derek's off pitch voice and her decent one making one rather funny Christmas carol of sorts, but it made her happy. She even danced while he clapped along. By the time the song was done, they were both smiling and laughing again.

"Whew!" she said, panting a little. "That Tina Turner has energy!"

"And you got her legs," he remarked, looking down at her exposed gams with a lecherous grin on his face.

"I wish," she said, tugging the skirt down.

"No, honey. You do," he argued, smiling at her softly.

She felt her cheeks heating, wondering why she was blushing. It was just Derek, after all, even if his eyes were just a touch darker.

"I'll put on Christmas music now," he said, standing and walking to his stereo system, while she sat, wondering.

"You know," he called over from the stereo. "We'd make a far better pair than Ike and Tina Turner."

She grinned and leaned back, glad she had her happy Derek back. "We already do."

* * *

After they finished making and eating a good portion of six dozen cookies, it was time for Penelope to head home again. As she was in the entry way, getting ready to put her boots on, she heard a song she loved.

"Oh! I love this song," she said, sliding the boot on. "_The Christmas Waltz_."

"Never heard it," he said honestly.

She slid her coat on and her scarf. "It's so romantic. I love the whole idea of old fashioned carolers, out walking, then suddenly breaking into a waltz. It's every girl's dream- hey!"

He took her hand and led her outside onto his front patio step. The music was loud enough that they could hear the music clearly.

Bowing to her, he said, "May I have this dance?"

Smiling radiantly at him, she put her hand on his shoulder.

She blushed as she stumbled over the first step. "I'm not a very good waltzer..."

"I had a grandmother who thought all of us kids should know how to waltz," he said, leading her with his hand solidly on her waist. "It's easy. Look in my eyes and count one-two-three, one-two-three..."

The moment her trusting brown eyes hit his, he could no longer count. They were so warm, so beautiful, thickly fringed with dark lashes and glowing with intensity. He lost himself in her eyes.

They flowed, like they were in a grand ballroom instead of his patio, swirling cascades and crescendos. He felt like a fairytale prince with his princess. Her hand held firmly in his hand, her body pressed against his, it was a wonderful experience, cut far too short by the radio station.

Regretful, he whirled her to a stop. "That's it, I guess."

She looked up at him. "Yes...I guess." Then she shivered.

"You better get in your car," he said, tucking her collar closer up to her neck.

She smiled up at him. "Goodnight, Derek. Thank you."

He didn't kiss her forehead, tonight; he didn't trust himself enough to stop at just that.

"Goodnight, P," he said.

And after he watched her drive away, he went back into his house, feeling more alone than he'd felt in ages.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_AN: Thanks for the reviews, folks. I am behind on responding, but I promise to get to them!...Posting a couple today, and the finale Christmas morning before my seventeen hour car ride to Colorado Christmas day...Whoo hoo!..._

Penelope spent all of Wednesday with Kevin, shopping for his parents. He didn't have a clue what Mr. and Mrs. Lynch wanted, and they didn't exactly like Penelope that much, so she felt kind of funny choosing their gifts for them.

"Kevin, are you sure you have no idea what your mother might like?" she asked, heading to the fourth big department store.

He huffed. "Sweeting, I told you, I don't know. Mother didn't like the perfume you chose last year, and Dad had said the sweater itched terribly."

Penelope bit back a retort. How anyone could dislike a classic perfume like Chanel No Five and how a cashmere sweater could itch, she had no clue. This was the fifth time Kevin brought up how his parents didn't like _her_ gifts. He'd begged her to purchase them with him, but then refused to take any responsibility for the reactions they got.

"I mean...you tried, but seriously..."

"Kevin," she growled, stopping stock still. "I am so done. _You_ choose Ralph and Edna's presents!"

"Sweeting, I didn't mean it like that. I would do no better than you," he cooed apologetically, then winked at her. "And I always adore the things you get me."

She tried to calm down. "Thanks, honey, but I still think you should choose. You know them better, and I feel like a failure."

Kevin's smile faltered to a thin line. "Fine. Fine."

As they walked, she heard him grumble something under his breath about _weddings_.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing," he said, in a tone that showed that it was obviously something.

"No, Kevin. I think you should tell me," she retorted, glaring.

"Well, I was just saying that it is times like this, when we are under stress, when we should rely on each other, that we don't," he said.

"What does that mean?" she asked, feeling tense and unhappy.

"Nothing," he said in that same tone. "It just reassures me that I am correct about us not taking that next step."

She huffed. "Kevin. This has _nothing_ to do with us getting married and having kids. This has to do with your parents being impossible!"

"Really?" he asked, stopping in his tracks. "You have no idea what to get my mother, although you want her to be your mother in law, but tell me: do you know what to get Mrs. Morgan?"

_A Precious Moments ornament. Mrs. Morgan collected them_...

She fought like hell not to show that she knew the answer, but Kevin was too quick on that one.

"Damn you, Penelope," he growled at her.

She actually felt guilty again. It was killing her that she did. "Kevin...it's only that Fran likes me. She's a nice lady and-"

"And my mother isn't?" he hissed. He was very upset, a vein was throbbing in his forehead, and it made Penelope feel awful.

"Kevin, she's fine; you're fine," she replied calmly, putting her hands in his. "We're fine. I'm so sorry."

Kevin continued to sulk for a moment, then hugged her and kissed her cheek. "Let's not talk about this now. Just...help me find the perfect present."

She nodded, and agreed on helping in the impossible task.

* * *

"Baby Girl, what's the matter?" Derek asked, coming into her office the next morning.

She was picking at her pens, which was what she did when she was stressed out. The whole shopping trip with Kevin was a disaster, and she couldn't get it out of her head. She also thought about that lying bastard, Santa, and felt even more miserable.

The only positive thing was that she shared Christmas cheer with Derek. He looked truly happy.

"Nothing," she said, then frowned and shook her head. "I sound like Kevin! No, there_ is _something, but nothing to do with you."

He sat on the corner of her desk. "What's wrong, sweetheart? You can tell me."

"I fought with Kevin," she said. "He made me angry, and I snapped."

"I'm sure he deserved it," he answered simply.

She laughed. "Always on my side, Derek Morgan, aren't you?"

"Hell, yes," he said, nudging her leg with his knee. "I got your back, you got mine, right?"

She nodded. "Right."

"Don't let it get to you. Christmas stresses us all out." He clapped her shoulder. "You'll be alright."

She nodded. "Thanks. I'll feel better after I help at the shelter tonight."

He gave her a look. "Where's that?"

"Downtown. The homeless shelter. I always help serve food and such before Christmas. It makes me remember how fortunate I am, and lets me feel like I am doing true giving."

He gave her a gentle smile. "Care for some company?"

She smiled back. "Yes. I'd love company."

* * *

"I have no idea why they are making me wear a hairnet," Derek said, chuckling. "I have no hair."

"Protocol," Penelope explained. "Everyone has to wear one, my delicious fudge dipped pretzel."

He snorted. "That one was pushing it, sweetness."

She grinned guilty. "I'm running out of Christmasy nicknames! I thought nutcracker sweet, but that sounds...painful."

"Hell, yes!" he retorted with a laugh. "Yikes."

"Besides, you have been rather remiss on your nicknames, sugar cookie," she said haughtily, after thinking of another one at the spur of the moment.

"Nope," he said. "I've had a few, but one fits you the best, so I keep coming back to it."

"Okay, places everyone!" the kitchen leader called out, effectively halting what he was going to say.

It was a bustling, busy activity. Penelope worked the front line, serving chicken to everyone. Derek got heavy lifting duty, being a big man, and ended up carrying pot after pot of chicken, rice and vegetables to the serving people.

By the time they were done, they were both hot, sweaty, and feeling very rewarded for their hard work.

* * *

"Wow," he remarked afterward, taking his hairnet off. "I never knew there were that many people who were needy in this town."

"It's not just the homeless who come here. It's people who have to choose food or rent, food or medicine," she said sadly, removing her hairnet, too. "We are truly fortunate, Derek."

He brushed her hair off her face with his hands, then cupped her face. "I'm just beginning to realize how very fortunate I am."

"Derek." The line leader said, coming into the back room. "Can you carry one more pot to the dishwasher? Harry left early to take dinner to a family."

He lowered his hands. "Sure."

Penelope was putting her coat on, when Derek came back. He slid his coat on, too, and they walked out the door. He lead her to her car, and opened her door for her.

"Goodnight, Derek. I had-"

"I didn't tell you my favorite nickname for you this season," he interrupted.

She'd forgotten about it. "What is that?"

"Angel."

She laughed. "You call me that all year round."

"No," he said, putting a long finger on her lips. "You are my Christmas angel, Penelope Garcia. You exemplify an angel: kind, giving, loving, caring, beautiful, thoughtful...everything an angel should be."

She sniffled, fighting back tears.

He picked up her hand, kissed her fingertips that were still pruny from wash water in the shelter. "Penelope, this Christmas...I know how fortunate, how _blessed_ I am...because I have you in my life."

Her phone rang, loudly, then rang again, without going to voicemail. She grimaced, knowing it was Kevin's ring. "Derek-"

He let her hand go, but he was still smiling. "You better answer that." He cupped her cheek in his hand, kissed her forehead and then the tip of her nose. "Goodnight, Penelope."

"Goodnight, Derek."

And as he walked away and she climbed into her car, she let the phone continue to ring to voicemail.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_AN: Stay tuned for the finale tomorrow!..._

It was Christmas eve at the BAU. Penelope had already exchanged presents with Reid, Rossi and Prentiss earlier in the week. She had presents for Hotch and for Jack that she would deliver to their house sometime in the not so distant future, and she planned on giving Derek his today. She missed this first year of not sharing with JJ, but she planned on seeing her friend in less than a week.

Everyone in the BAU worked a half day, except for Hotch. He took the entire day to spend with Jack, which everyone thought was a great idea. Most everyone had already left. Reid had taken his flight out of town two days ago, Rossi took the train into NYC, and Prentiss had family in DC.

Penelope walked into Derek's office. "You're still here?"

He smiled up from his desk, then stood and walked closer. "Do you seriously think I would leave without saying goodbye to you?"

She smiled wistfully. She knew he would never forget her. She could never forget him, either. He meant far too much to her. She was starting to think he meant more than anyone in the world to her.

Clearing the frog that suddenly jumped into her throat, she asked, "What are your plans tonight, Derek?"

He shrugged. "Going home. Make myself something good to eat. Have a few beers and watch _The Hangover_."

She arched a brow. "Come on, shug. It's Christmas eve! Gotta watch something Christmasy."

He arched a brow back at her. "_Bad Santa_?"

"You're awful," she said, pushing his arm.

"How about you?" he asked after a moment.

"Not much. Wrapping presents, that kind of thing," she said. "I have Kevin's family in the morning. We have church at his parent's place and then dinner at noon."

"Oh," he said thoughtfully. "I'm heading to Hotch's house Christmas day. He invited me."

"That's nice."

They were both really quiet again, unnaturally so for the two of them.

She asked quickly, "Want to get dinner together?"

He answered just as quickly with a beaming grin, "I'd love to."

They laughed and headed out of the BAU, his arm around her waist, her arm around his, laughing and teasing. They rode together in his SUV on the way to a little family style restaurant that was still open. After ordering dinner, they sat and chatted about absolutely nothing, shared a slice of pie, and simply enjoyed each other's company.

"Excuse me," the waitress said, coming to their table. "I'm sorry, you two, but we are hoping to be closing soon."

"So soon?" Penelope asked.

"It's nearly seven PM, ma'am," the waitress replied.

"Oh...Oh!" Pen said guiltily, reaching for her purse. They'd completely lost track of time.

Derek beat her to the punch, and put down a huge bill on the table.

"Sir, I don't think I have-"

"Please," he said, interrupting the waitress. "Keep the change. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you, too, sir!"

When she left, they stood. Derek helped Penelope with her coat.

"That was a really kind thing to do, Derek Morgan," she said, smiling at him.

"We took up four hours of their night," he retorted with a smirk.

"No," she answered, narrowing her eyes at him but smiling, too. "I think you may have a little Christmas angel in you, too, after all."

He smiled softly at her, one that radiated to his warm brown eyes. "Come on, silly girl. Time to go home."

Once they arrived back at the BAU, they took their cars back to Derek's place. Then they decided to go for a walk, to burn off all of that holiday pie that they'd eaten. They walked, talking more, hand in hand, laughing over things at work, their families, their friends. They laughed a lot about their history.

They walked for so long, Penelope's teeth began to chatter. She tried to hide it, but couldn't stop the involuntary movements.

"Baby, you're freezing," he said, holding her in his arms. "I better get you back."

"Really, I'm f-f-fine, Hot St-st-stuff," she stuttered.

He laughed. "Sure you are. Come on, angel. Let's go."

They ran back and entered his house. He took off her mittens the minute they walked in.

"They're like ice," he murmured. He rubbed her fingers, brought them up to his mouth and blew warm air on them. "I'm so sorry, sugar. I didn't-"

She put her fingertips on his lips. "I'm better already, and I was having far too much fun to stop."

He held her fingers against his lips, not letting her remove them. He brought them over to his cheeks, closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, then slowly, reluctantly, released them.

They stood together in his entry way, not saying a word, that awkward silence rushing over them again. She looked at him, he looked at her, and neither of them could say the words they both had in their hearts.

A moment later, she said, "I guess I should go."

He nodded. "It's after ten. You have a busy day tomorrow."

She swallowed hard and licked her suddenly dry lips. "Merry Christmas, Derek."

"Merry Christmas, Penelope," he said huskily. "I hope you get what you wished for this year."

"You, too," she whispered, her heart panging in her chest.

Before the awkward, deafening silence could settle in again, she gave him a quick hug and an even quicker kiss on the cheek.

And then she was out the door.

* * *

Derek sat on his couch in front of his fireplace, his face in his hands, thinking of only one thing.

Penelope has said she hoped he got what he'd wished for Christmas, too.

He sighed and sat up. Truth be told, he never wished for anything anymore. After his father had died, after Buford had taken his childhood away, he'd stopped wishing for things a long time ago. Seemed like a useless, childish thing for a grown man.

He stood and walked to his window. It was dark out and very still; frost was settling on the dewy grass outside. In the sky, there were a few, very bright stars. He glanced at the clock.

Christmas stars, since it was now after midnight.

He rested his hand on the window pane, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.

And then he began to speak.

"I'm not the kind of man who prays, or asks for anything I can't get for myself, but I'm asking now...making one wish," he whispered to the empty room. "Just one thing, and I'm begging You..."

He opened his dark and pleading eyes...

"I want her."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_**AN: To my faithful friends (Who happen to be reviewers/readers/alerters, too!): Thanks so much for the gifts of your reviews, favorites, and alerts. It is like Christmas year round in my inbox!...I really hope you enjoyed this Christmas present from my home-and my heart-to yours!...Peace and love, KricketWilliams**_

"Yes, Kevin," Penelope remarked, stifling a groan. "I'll bring the cookies."

Garcia had risen at eight AM to finish up wrapping and packing for the Lynches' house. After returning home from Derek's last night, she'd washed her face, brushed her teeth, put on her pajamas, and crawled into bed.

And dreamed about her best friend the entire night.

When she woke, she realized one thing. That Santa had been right on some accounts. The man she wanted had nothing to do with the one she _thought_ she did. The man she wanted really did love her, always had, as her best friend for the past six years. As she'd stood in his entryway, wishing with all her heart that he would kiss her, she knew he'd continue to love her forever….as his best friend.

"Don't forget the fruitcake. Cousin Mark loves his fruitcake," Kevin whined, then added, "and the macaroons."

She didn't hide the grumble that time. Truth be told, she didn't want to go to Kevin's parents, but she didn't feel that she had any other choice. Being home alone on Christmas day wasn't very appealing, either, and Derek said he was going to the Hotchner's, so she couldn't go to his place.

"Come on, Penny, dearest, don't sound like that," Kevin cajoled, obviously hearing her grumble. "It's Christmas day, after all."

Huffing silently again, she plopped on her couch, distressed. This was not going to be a good day; her spirits were lower than they'd ever been.

She looked up and saw a tiny package wrapped under the tree. Derek's gift. In all the hustle and bustle of the things they were doing together the past week, she'd forgotten to give him his ornament that she got him every year. She'd painstakingly wrapped that present, with the prettiest-yet still masculine-wrapping paper she could find and a gorgeous bow. He would love it, and….

"Kevin, I have to go," she murmured.

"Oh…okay," he said, sounding very uncertain to her ears. "See you in an hour?"

Derek needed to get that present. More than anything, she needed to give Morgan his present.

"No," she said, her voice stronger than it had been in days. "I have somewhere else I need to be."

"Penelope," he snapped. "What is going on?"

"Goodbye, Kevin. Good luck," she breathed softly, hanging up the phone.

She stood immediately and picked up the package from under her tree. She'd rather spend today, the most holiest of days, with someone she really loved. She gave the present a hug, then slid on her jacket, and headed out the door.

"Penelope."

She turned and smiled at the deep, familiar voice.

Derek was standing in her courtyard, holding a small, beautiful box with a bow on it. He'd obviously had it wrapped; he wasn't the sort that wrapped presents himself! He was wearing a long, charcoal gray dress coat, the kind he wore when he had his suits on at work, with a white scarf looped around his neck and tucked into his lapel.

"Hi, Derek," she said, her curiosity piqued. She put the present she had for him in her pocket. "What are you doing here?"

He approached her, an uncertain smile on his face. "I forgot to give you your present last night…"

Reaching for her hand, he lifted it, then placed the small box in her palm.

She looked up at him. "What is it?"

The corners of his mouth quirked. "Open it and find out."

Penelope pulled off her mittens and undid the perfect tiny bow. Lifting the lid off, she found a smaller, velvet box. Her breath caught in her throat as she lifted the little box out of the other one and opened the case.

It was a pin, an angel, in stunning gold and silver. She was miniature, but her features were distinct and glorious, carved by a master. Her wings sparkled, her long dress flowed, and her hands were folded in a gesture of perfect peace.

The angel became fuzzy as her eyes watered. She looked up at him, awestruck. His expression was expectant, and he was focused completely on her, like he was that night at the Christmas tree lot.

"Do you like it?" he murmured softly. "An angel for my angel…"

"It's beautiful. Absolutely exquisite," she answered, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Like her owner," Derek remarked, bringing his warm hand up to cup her cheek. He brushed a teardrop away with his thumb.

She sniffled and looked down. "I'm silly, crying like this."

"No, never," he said, cupping her face in both hands, making her look upward at him.

Dark, soft, gentle eyes met hers, with an expression of longing that took her breath away.

"Penelope…that isn't the only gift I want to give you."

Her heart started to beat so strongly in her chest, she was sure that he could hear it.

"I want to give you my heart, Penelope, if you want to take it," he whispered softly, his hands trembling. "You've had it for years, but now I'm adding all that I am, and all that I ever will be."

She couldn't respond; her heart bound into her throat, making speech completely impossible.

"I have a price-that you give me your heart in return," he murmured, kissing her forehead like he had so many times before. "Can you do that for me?"

"Oh, Derek, yes!" she cried, launching herself in his arms, laughing and crying, too, at the same time. "Yes, yes!"

He wrapped her in a fierce embrace, like he couldn't bare to let her go, then cupped her face in his hands. He traced her features with his fingertips, gently, nearly reverently.

"Now I have all I wished for this Christmas."

He lowered his head, kissing her like she'd always dreamed of being kissed. A warm, sweeping sensation swept over her, as if she were standing in front of his Yule Log fire, instead of the middle of the damp Virginia weather. She clung to him as the kiss went on and on, a kiss that was as pure and perfect as Christmas morning itself.

When he finally lifted his head, he said, "I love you, Penelope."

"I love you, too," she answered, looping her arm around his waist as she stepped closer to him to head to the car. She reached for her mittens in her pocket, and felt a present.

"Oh! I have one for you," she said, handing him the gift.

He smiled. "Silly girl, you're the only gift I need."

"Open!" she said excitedly.

He opened the little box and pulled out the ornament. It was two snowpeople, hugging each other. Underneath was a banner that said _Our First Christmas Together_.

He gave her a beaming grin. "The first of many."

She nodded. Originally, she'd meant it teasingly, but now, it seemed very apropos.

"To the Hotchner's?" he asked, tucking her into his side again.

"Anywhere you want to go," she answered, snuggling into her spot, knowing in her heart that wherever he went…was exactly where she belonged.

**Remember This December, that love weighs more than gold!-**

_**Josephine Dodge Daskam Bacon**_


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